Formal Shenanigans
by spitfire00
Summary: Edward and Winry have been invited to the military's annual ball. They prepare together and Edward makes everything more difficult with added mischief.


"It should not be this impossible to make your hair behave." Winry groaned at him as she struggled to comb back his wild golden hair into a tame ponytail. "Honestly— this is worse than trying to do _my_ hair."

"I don't know what you want from me. I washed it and everything. I even used that conditioner shit you bought me last month." Ed said,bored and fighting against his every instinct to squirm childishly. He sat in his boxers at one of the kitchen chairs while Winry fought to tame his normal outrageous look into something more subdued for the military ball they were invited to. His bangs were long enough that they needed to be tucked back with the rest of his hair but short enough that they refused to, and for every piece of hair she managed to wrangle into place another popped free and did whatever the hell it wanted to— a lot like Edward himself tended to do.

"I know— it's just impossible to make look good because its _your_ hair." She tells him, and dammit if he can't hear the smirk in her voice. His indignant _Hey!_ is cut off when she pulls his hair back a little too fiercely and he yelps, and she immediately smooths her hands over his scalp as an apology. When she steps away and he hears her retreating back towards the bathroom he lets his face smack onto the countertop to show his annoyance.

"I'm going to get some hairspray." She announces, ignoring his irked grunt from the other room.

—

Eventually she manages to slick back his hair into a sleek ponytail with only a handful of rogue strands of hair falling into his face and less than an entire bottle of gel sacrificed for the cause. He's putting off getting dressed in his uniform for as long as physically possible, and she lets him because she isn't ready to hear him complain about it yet while she finishes getting ready herself. So he struts across their flat in loose sweats instead and pops into the bathroom every three seconds to mess with her or her things or try to steal a kiss. She ultimately bans him from the room, and he wanders off to go cause mischief somewhere else for awhile.

She manages to finish her makeup and have almost all of her hair pinned back before he finds her again, this time with a sheet over his head as he slips in behind her in the bathroom, both of them standing silently in the mirror for a moment before she speaks. "Are you a ghost?"

"Mmyeah."

"Okay."

He slips back out of the bathroom and she can hear him fiddling with something in the bedroom before she has to set down her bobby pins to giggle ridiculously.

—

"I say we just skip the whole damn thing. Just strip and order carryout and go to sleep." He announces from where he's seated on the edge of the bathtub, fiddling with her hair curlers and ultimately sticking the hallow foam parts onto his automail fingers so that his fingers look like massive pink sausages.

"Nu uh. No way." She's unwinding her hair from the few curlers remaining against her scalp, and hands one off to his awaiting hand wordlessly before starting on the next one. "I bought that dress just for tonight, and I want to wear it. Plus, you're expected to be there and play nice." She can't hide her smile at the way he scowls at the last part of her sentence.

"They should know better than to expect such things." He says, grumpiness practically radiating off of him at the idea of having to contribute to any kind of political game. She finished combing out her curls until they loosely fell over her shoulder and set down her brush.

"Edward, you're a colonel and you know Roy personally. He's going to be _fuhrer_ next month— everyone has to be good, even _you._ " He huffs at her and drops his sausage hand. She turns to face him fully and eventually sits down next to him, a faint smile on her lips. "I know how tired you are, but this will be good for you too. You can get a feel for the rest of the State Alchemists that will be there. It'll be a good way to meet the people you've been evaluating." She reaches up and slides her hand against his mismatched shoulders before kissing his cheek. "Just be civil for one night and then you can go back to being the ridiculous heathen you really are." She gets a bark of laughter out of him and goes back to the mirror where she watches him pluck her curlers from his fingers.

"I'm just glad no one knows that I have this job except for Mustang's staff, otherwise I'm sure they would be trying to suck up so they could keep their jobs." He mumbles, mind shifting back to the stacks and stacks of State Alchemists he was investigating before he decided what to do with the program overall. He'd already found hints of years worth of corruption and bribes in two departments alone, and he'd barely had time to even really begin his investigations. He'd certainly been surprised when Mustang invited him back into the military to redesign the State Alchemist program, but after a lot of thinking he'd accepted the job and tried to come up with a basic plan to start getting things back on track. For years it had been used as a system to scour for Father's sacrifices and necessary means to create blood crests across the nation— but Mustang seemed to think that under Ed's command he could clean it into a program based on an alchemist's true belief— that alchemy was for the people first and foremost.

Winry glanced at Edward through the mirror as he mused. They'd never been the type to use words where they felt actions were more suited, but as she watches this handsome man she calls her husband wiggle pink appendages at himself she can't help the words that spill from her lips. "I'm really proud of you you know."

His head snaps up at her instantly, eyebrows drawn down into a confused frown, so she continues. "Redesigning the entire State Alchemist program isn't exactly an easy feat Ed, and I know you still have tons of work to do, but the General couldn't have picked a better guy for the job." She reveals in the way she still has the power to make his cheeks go pink even after years together. She has mercy on him and goes back to pinning up her hair. "Now get out of my bathroom, you're so distracting."

—

"Would you still love me if I went bald?" Winry hears Ed's voice echo through the flat.

"Yes." She tells him, curling her eyelashes even as an image of Edward with a bald head flutters through her mind. Her husband is damn handsome; his hair didn't matter much. She'd seen him in hats and bandages and with short hair and long hair and hair so tangled it stood straight up on his scalp.

And that was ignoring the fact that she loved him for his soul anyway.

"What if I grew a mustache?"

"I like it when you get scruffy— you know that." She pokes her head out of the bathroom to find him, but he's not in the bedroom. Edward was generally frustrated by his facial hair and kept it short out of habit, there were several times when he worked for days on end without stopping and would return home with a shadow creeping up his prominent jaw line. It made him look rough around the edges, but she found she didn't mind the look in the least.

"No— not a beard, just like— a really fluffy pedo 'stache."

"I'll shave it off in your sleep."

"What if I had black hair?"

"That would be weird, but of course I would still love you."

"What if—"

"Edward Elric! I love you for your attitude and mind. Not your face."

"... What if I shaved off my eyebrows?"

"You'd be dead to me."

—

"Ohhhhhhh my god how are you not done yet?" He's laying on the floor outside the threshold of the bathroom, limbs of metal and flesh alike splayed around as he moans about how long she's taking. She suspects that if she were to take anything more than ten minutes, he will fall asleep right there on the rug.

"Edward I swear to god if you cannot be quiet—" She tells him, weilding a can of hairspray like a weapon. He's either too tired to realize the threat she's presenting to his life or he just doesn't care because all he does is moan and roll over. His shenanigans have led to more of his hair escaping her hard work, and she fished around for some more bobby pins absentmindedly. "You have at least twelve new books in the study— go read or something." She glances at him just long enough to see the contemplative look on his face as he mulls over her suggestion, and watches him pick himself up off the floor and meander towards the office moodily.

She leaves him to whatever the hell he's doing until she needs help zipping up her dress, and since he responds to her call the first time she knows that there was no way he was actually reading anyway. She's wiggling into her dress when he pops into the room, still half naked and sulking.

She does manage to catch the way his face lights up upon seeing her though, and when he doesn't immediately zip her up when she turns her back to him she has to look over her shoulder to see him gawking at her. "Boy I swear. You see me naked all the time— Don't get all dopey now." She's laughing a moment later and his face goes scarlet for before he stalks up to her and kisses her hard on the lips, trapping her in his embrace before she has a chance to tell him off for ruining her lipstick.

—

They have fifteen minutes until the car was to arrive to take them to the ball when she finally manages to corner him into his uniform.

"I wear it every day! It's not like it takes long to put on!" He's thrown himself onto their bed, glaring at the uniform she's shaking at him.

"Edward Elric we have to leave in fifteen minutes— put on your damn suit!"

"Ugh, it's not a _suit—_ "

"Yes it is! This isn't even your regular uniform you nitwit, it's way darker— plus we still have to get all your pins on here and your medals—"

"Ugh."

" _Edward."_

—

He spends a ridiculous amount of time fidgeting in front of the mirror while she buckles herself into her heels and fills her clutch with makeup and her wallet. She doesn't get to wear dresses often— the flowy material is dangerous with the mechanics she works with and she risks getting part of it sucked into the machines she works with. So she takes a moment to enjoy the loose feeling of the fabric swishing around her ankles as she straightens up and takes one final look at herself in the mirror.

She had bought the dress just for today, a deep ruby color that fell off her hips all the way to where it kissed the floor with a feather light touch. It had a deep chest line and the thin straps were snug enough on her shoulders that she didn't have to fear about accidentally revealing herself. It was warm enough outside that she didn't have to worry about any kind of shawl, and the sun outside had set almost completely, casting indigo across the horizon when she peered out their window.

Eventually she goes back for Edward, curious about what was taking him so long. He wore the uniform almost everyday after all, and while this version was far more formal and tailored to fit him more snuggly, she doubt it had to be too difficult to manage.

He's standing in front of the mirror fiddling with his freshly pressed collar, looking uncomfortable at the way it rubs against the bottom of his jaw. Captain Hawkeye had sent his suit to the dry cleaners and even had it delivered to them on the presumption that they were scrambling with their separate responsibilities too much to remember about such trivial matters. She was partially correct of course— Edward could never be bothered with such things as he was researching and she had been organizing time off from her workshop in Rushvalley to attend the ball anyway. Winry would have to think of a way to thank her before she forgot.

She counts eight pins and four medals sitting on the counter, waiting to be clasped to the thick blue uniform he wore. They were new and shiny and while his everyday uniform showed his rank and status as a State Alchemist, he never adorned all of the awards and honors he had been given over his years in the service.

Now however at such a formal event, he would be expected to don his entire assigned uniform with all of its bells and whistles included. He looked at her through the mirror, eyes brightening as he swept his eyes over her elegant dress. She stepped up to him wordlessly and picked up one of the first pins scattered about, slipping her hand inside his lapel to begin fastening it into place. "Why don't you ever wear these?" She picks up another, setting it in place by the first.

He shrugs the shoulder she's not working on. "It's just impractical. They jingle when I walk." She snorts at him and he grins down at her. "I don't know. I guess I just never really cared much for them. I'm here for the work, not for the rewards."

"I know, but it's still got to feel nice that the state recognizes your talent and wants to honor you." She picks up one of the larger medals that is complete with a black ribbon, and she recognizes it as the sort of medal that the military would only give to someone who had suffered needlessly for the country. She tries not to think too much about it, and fastens it along as well.

"I mean— maybe some of them. But not really. Maybe I'll care more once Mustang is in power and we can finally clean this place up." She hums at him, straightening the last of the awards on his jacket front and smooths out nonexistent creases. His golden cord matches his hair almost perfectly, along with the shining stars and stripes perched on his shoulders. The deep royal blue of the uniform looks impossibly good on him, and the crisp shoulders make his already study form look powerful. It was rare for her to get the chance to see him in full dress— he had submitted to wearing the uniform while on the clock, but he almost always shed the jacket in favor for walking around in his dress shirt with rolled sleeves, or even just a form fitting t-shirt on laundry days. Even when he was wrestled into his jacket due to inspection or cold, he tended to leave it unbuttoned and flapping uselessly. He always said that he didn't mind the pants; that they were comfortable— but that the jacket was suffocating and obnoxious. He never got called out on it though, and Winry had to assume that his superior officers had just decided that when it came to managing her husband it was all about picking their battles.

With his hair slicked back and his uniform pressed sharply, Edward looked awfully fine indeed.

Their car honked outside, and he smiled down at her and offered his elbow while she slipped his State Alchemist watch into his pocket. "Guess that means it's time to go."


End file.
